


Kakashi Week 2017

by akimikono



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Guilt, Hokage Hatake Kakashi, Kakashi Week, Kakashi Week 2017, Mirrors, Out of Body Experiences, Puppy Love, Regret, Survivor Guilt, will tag as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-05 04:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12183018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akimikono/pseuds/akimikono
Summary: Various short fics starring Kakashi based on the 2017 Kakashi Week prompts created by kakashifest on Tumblr.





	1. What the Eye Sees (Prompt: Shirtless)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Description of physical scars, allusion to violence, Kakashi is haunted by his past.

Sometimes Kakashi forgets just how many layers he wears until he has to peel them all off to bathe or to be treated at the hospital. His flak jacket, his jonin sweatshirt, the mesh undershirt, his sweatpants, sandals, bandages, gloves, his mask, his hitai-ate. Days like this are when all he wants to do is take a hot bath and fall asleep in his bed. But no, he has to take everything off first; it only takes about half a second to regret wearing all these clothes every day.

Today is no different. After spending two weeks on a disappointingly fruitless mission, he just wants to bathe and sleep. Mostly sleep, but he doesn’t really find the idea of waking up in his bed tomorrow covered in sweat, grime and dried blood all that appealing. So bath first, it is. He turns the faucet as hot as it will go, nonchalantly adds a few scoops of lemon-scented bath salts (Pakkun’s, of course) into the water and begins the arduous task of stripping down.

First it’s his flak jacket, heavy with scrolls; then his utility pouch which is heavier with his kunai, paper bombs, and shuriken. He toes off his sandals that he forgot to remove at the front door and pushes them across the floor to the corner, dropping his jacket and pouch on top of them. He grabs the back of his sweatshirt and pulls it up over his head, catching his headband and bringing it off as well. They go into the pile, followed by his mesh undershirt, his mask, and his gloves. Soon he is standing in only his sweatpants, the bandages still tight around his thigh. His reflection catches his eye and he stops, staring at the man in the mirror. For a brief moment his own body seems foreign to him, as if somewhere along his mission his soul had been replaced with someone else’s, and they were trying to figure out whose body they were in now.

“Is that …” Even his voice sounds foreign but he plays it off as the acoustics in the small bathroom. “Is that me?”

He blinks rapidly, trying to focus his good eye and the Sharingan at the same time. Despite all the years he’s had it, it is still hard to get used to it - and having it covered 90% of the time doesn’t help him much.

In the poor lighting, he can see the shadows of his abs and the dip of his hip bones but the mirror is too dirty to notice anything else.

“This isn’t my body,” he says, his eyes feeling dry. His shoulders ache like he is still carrying all of his weapons, and his head is pounding from the overwhelmingly sharp scent of lemon in the air. How does he know it’s not his body? His eyelids feel heavy and he steadies himself against the counter, pushing his large palms flat against the cold laminate. “Where are my scars? This body doesn’t have any scars.” He leans closer and, a bit too heavy-handedly, wipes a layer of grime from the glass and his eyes widen. “Oh.” Now he can see properly, and his eyes focus in on his bare shoulders, arms, and chest. His muscles strain under his skin, looking like something trying to get out. Maybe it is another soul; he has it trapped inside and doesn’t know how to let it go.

There is a small amount of pale silver hair running from his belly button down his stomach, disappearing under the low waistband of his pants. There are very thin, pale hairs running along his forearms and a few on his chest. His skin is even paler, a reminder that the sun can not penetrate through a hundred layers of clothing.

But his scars _are_ there, he notices. He uses a hand towel to wipe down the rest of the mirror and stands up straight, taking in his own body for the first time in a long time. There are small puckered lines running all over, tiny reminders of dangerous missions and too-rough training. There are burns and discolored skin, hollowed-out gouges and areas where the skin is so thin he can clearly see blood vessels. Then there are the larger scars - cross-body, deep wounds that took months of recuperation and several trips to the hospital to heal. But, nothing ever _truly_ heals. These scars are reminders of battles and wars and things he has tried to put behind him, but can’t because he lives with the evidence every day.

Now he remembers why he stopped looking in the mirror.

His eyes land on his right hand in the mirror and it’s trembling. He can see the faint scars wrapping around his wrist and fingers like thin snakes, score marks from concentrated chakra powerful enough to cut through a human body, powerful enough to take a life, powerful enough to ruin _several_ lives, powerful enough to cause decades of nightmares. His hand is shaking so badly, he has to squeeze it to get it to stop.

Kakashi can’t look at himself in the mirror anymore, so he turns to the bath and shuts off the faucet with just enough room to spare for himself to get in without any overspill. He unwraps the bandages, sheds his sweatpants, and lowers himself into the tub. The lemon-scented water rushes over his aching body and burns hot against every scar. He sinks lower until the water laps against his chin. Now that he’s looked at himself, he can’t close his eyes; he’ll see them, every single one of them. The Sharingan had unthankfully allowed him to record every single memory of the scars he got - who gave them to him, why, when; he could recall the pain and the fear of each.

The Sharingan. His left hand rises out of the water and he touches his cheekbone, feeling the deep groove of a scar under his fingertips. He’d forgotten that scar when he was looking in the mirror. He hadn’t had the Sharingan when he got the scar, but he doesn’t need it to remember what happened. He doesn’t need it to remember _that_ pain, to remember _those_ faces. For a minute, Kakashi knows why his body seems foreign. His right eye closes and he looks to the shower wall through the Sharingan. This eye isn’t his. It doesn’t belong to him. He’d noticed before, but had ignored it as a manifestation of guilt; this eye still has its owner’s soul. He can feel it under his skin, squeezing the air out of his lungs, cutting holes in his heart, screaming for its own body, crying to be returned. When he looks at himself through the Sharingan, it’s not him looking at his own body. It’s the other soul looking at him, judging him, trying to claw its way out through his throbbing eye socket.

Kakashi clears his throat as if to bring himself out of his own thoughts, as if to convince himself he’s not as sad as he really is. “I should really get this bath over so I can sleep. I’m exhausted.” The words somehow make everything worse, since he knows he can’t sleep. He forces himself to grab the bottle of shampoo and pour an unnecessarily large amount into the palm of his calloused hand. “I’m sure Pakkun won’t mind if I use this too.”

The bottle slips off the edge of the tub and falls to the floor and Kakashi lets it lay there. He rubs his hands together hypnotically, letting the suds spill over his fingers and into the water. Finally, he rakes his hands through the mass of tangled, silver hair; every movement is a tug-of-war with the knots he’s let grow over the last two weeks. Chunks of hair come out, wrapped around his fingers, and large globs of dirt-black bubbles roll down his neck and shoulders. After struggling to untangle the rat’s nest in his hair, he is finally able to run his fingers through the soaking wet mess freely. His only reward is to feel every bump and scar along his scalp, and his Sharingan begs to make him remember each event.

It’s too much for him. Kakashi rinses out his hair and practically falls out of the bathtub, pulling out the plug to drain the lemon-scented water and grabbing a towel from the linen closet. He roughly dries his hair, runs the towel over his body and tosses it on the pile of dirty clothes, leaving the mirror covered in steam. Rushing out of the bathroom, he throws himself onto his bed, burying his face into the pillow and takes a long, deep breath.

Sometimes wearing all those layers is much less troublesome than having to look at all those scars.

 


	2. The Death of a Seamstress - aka 8 Ninken Jackets and Kakashi Assumes Too Much (Prompt: Ninken)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi needs to get his ninken's jackets darned, but the woman at the shop isn't his usual seamstress ... cue Kakashi's grand assumption and an awkward realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi Week 2017 has 10 prompts and I hope to write half and draw half! I may go back and write some stories for the other 5 prompts I did art for, though!

It’d been several years since all of Kakashi’s ninken got their little jackets and forehead protectors. He remembered when he’d first got the blue jackets with the _Henohenomoheji_ face embroidered onto them and presented them to the eight ninja hounds.

“Kakashi,” Pakkun had said gingerly, as he pawed at the smallest jacket of all, meant for himself, “this is nice and all, but … we’re _dogs_. We don’t need these jackets. None of the other ninken wear them.”

“Maybe,” a younger Kakashi had replied, “but you’re the ninken of the Hatake clan. We actually have some pride. Put on the jacket.”

Throughout the years, the jackets had gone through a lot. They’d been torn, stained, forgotten, and even buried at one point - though Kakashi figured that had been on purpose by a few of the dogs who were embarrassed to be seen wearing clothes. He’d done his best to patch them up, but his hands weren’t nimble enough to work a small needle through the fabric. And when he _had_ decided to do it himself, they had turned out rather pathetically. The fabric was puckered, the hems were uneven, and they looked sadder than before. It only took one serious look from his ninken and Pakkun declaring, “I am _not_ wearing _that_ \- _anywhere_ ,” before he gave up for good trying to fix it himself.

Whenever he got the chance, he’d return to the old seamstress who’d originally made the jackets for the ninken when he was younger. Sakumo had taken him there when he was a child to have a set of custom shirts made with a mask before he started at the Academy, and she seemed like the perfect person to ask to make the matching set of jackets for the dogs. Of course, it helped that she’d already knew Kakashi and didn’t ask many questions - the only thing she’d told him to do was summon all the dogs so she could get their measurements. Every time he returned to the shop, she’d patch up the jackets with smooth seams and polished stitching. She’d even gone so far as to replace all of them with brand new jackets a few years ago as a gift to a “loyal and kind customer.”

Now he was holding a paper bag packed with the eight jackets, each one folded as neatly as he could manage with the tears and tatters fluttering about. He’d done his best to tell his ninken that they _needed_ to take care of the jackets - they couldn’t be reckless, but even with his stern words there was at least one dog who’d accidentally scratch at himself and tear a hole clean through the fabric. Plus he couldn’t help that they’d gotten worn down through use - I mean, you can only fight in clothes for so long before they’re damaged at least a little. This last bought of training hadn’t been bad, but somehow every - single - jacket - was - ruined.

Kakashi felt incredibly bad since these hadn’t even lasted that long, and the old lady hadn’t even charged him for them! But still, he needed to replace them.

The small shop was tucked away in an easily overlooked corner of the village, behind a few weapons shops and a bookstore. A wooden sign hung over the door that read _Custom Clothes - Seamstress and Tailor_ in faded ink and the windows were dark even though all the lights were on inside. Kakashi pushed open the door and was greeted with the familiar chime of bells overhead. There were wooden mannequins placed in the front of the shop, each one wearing a different outfit. A display case over to the side held bolts of fabric, a few sketches, and an old pincushion. At the back of the store was a door curtained off with a sign that read _Private - Fitting Rooms._ It smelled like potpourri, and threads of linen hung in the air.

“Sato-san,” Kakashi called, wandering over to one of the mannequins dressed in an airy, cream-colored yukata. “I hate to say it but my ninken have torn through all of their jackets. Do you think you could fix them? Or replace them? I’ll pay you this time.”

Someone moved behind the curtained room and footsteps echoed off the wooden floor. Kakashi didn’t bother looking up as he rubbed the sleeve hem of the yukata between his thumb and index finger.

_This is nice_ , he thought to himself. _I should ask her to make me one of these before summer gets here._

The curtain was thrown back and Kakashi, still gazing at the mannequins, held up the bag. “I’ve got them all here. Could you see if there’s anything to salvage?”

“What do you mean you’ll pay her this time?” came an unfamiliar voice.

Kakashi turned and was startled to see a young woman standing in the fitting room entrance, the edge of the curtain in her hands, a stern look on her face. She was dressed head-to-toe in black with a white apron tied around her waist, decorated with the same symbol Sato-san had explained was her family crest. The girl had her hair pulled back into a bun and a pencil behind her ear. Her glare was frightening and Kakashi stepped back from the yukata and threw a hand up as if to show he wasn’t armed.

“Sorry about that,” he laughed lightly, “I wasn’t aware anyone else worked in this shop. I was looking for Sato-san. She usually mends these for me.”

The girl continued to stare at him but she let go of the curtain and folded her arms. “Yes, I guessed that. What are you doing having my grandmother sew your clothes and not paying her?”

“Huh? Your grandmother?” Kakashi studied the girl’s face and he could see a faint trace of Sato-san in her - the same large eyes, the same stooped shoulders, even the small flyaway piece of hair on top of her head was the same. “This is a family business? That’s nice. But she’s really the one who does all of my mending, so if you could just go get her —”

“Not until you pay her what you owe,” the girl said sharply, standing firm. “It sounds like she’s been doing a _lot_ of work for you, so I expect you to pay up. What’s your name? I’m sure she kept a record of how many times you came in. I’ll get the guest book and we can crunch some numbers. Take a seat over there.” She pointed to a cushioned bench on the other side of the room before disappearing behind the curtain. When she returned she had a huge book in her arms and a determined look in her eye.

“I didn’t mean to give off the wrong impression,” Kakashi began, clutching the bag to his chest. “I never cheated your grandmother out of anything. She said she’d made these as a gift for me. But I’m more than willing to pay you to fix them.”

“Nice try!” The girl dropped the book onto the bench and flipped it open. “Grandma was very nice and she did a lot of favors - but plenty of people took advantage of that kindness and nearly put us in debt! I’m going to collect every last cent that was owed to her if it’s the last thing I do. Let’s see … What’s your name?”

“Uh - it’s Hatake Kakashi.”

“Hatake … Hatake …” She turned the pages until she reached the page titled _HA_ and went down the list. “Ah, here you are. Hatake Kakashi! Let’s see. You’ve been in - ah!” She stood up and gawked at him. “You’ve been coming here since you were a child?”

The jonin nodded simply. “Yes. I’m sorry, are you able to mend these?”

“Just a minute - Grandma always put a check mark next to orders that were paid in full, and a star next to a gift. Of course, most of these pages are filled with stars - but I know what was a gift and what wasn’t. Hmm, seems that most of your orders have been paid … that’s a first. Ah! Here it is! Eight sets of jackets for …” She paused, puzzled, and reread the page. “Maybe the writing is smudged. Does that say what I think it says?”

“Eight sets of jackets for my ninken, that’s right.”

She turned, giving him a bizarre look. “You had … custom jackets made … for your _dogs_?”

Kakashi felt a sudden blush cross his face and he looked away. “That was the order that was a gift - the most recent one. I’ll pay you to mend these ones - or to make new ones.”

Huffing, the girl slammed the book shut and eyed him suspiciously. “So, only one order was a gift, huh? I guess you’re lucky. There’s some people in here who’ve been scamming my grandma for _years_. I’m going to make them pay in full. Can you imagine that bill? Let’s see the damage.” She took the bag from his arms and sifted through the shreds of fabric. “Jeez, you can tell these belong to dogs. Er, ninja dogs. I can’t save any of this. I _can_ make new ones, if you want to order them. My grandma kept all of her patterns so they should be around here somewhere. Maybe in the back …” The girl wandered off to find the missing patterns.

“So,” Kakashi said, following her through the curtain into the back room. He stopped and stared in awe. He had always assumed the shop was tiny, since the front of the store wasn’t much to look at. But back here was another story. To the left were fitting rooms to be used to adjust and tailor clothes, to the right was where customers were taken to be measured, and in front of him was another door leading to what appeared to be a workshop. He suspected he had been back here at some point when his father had ordered his masked shirts, but the memory was distant and faded – and since the ninken were so well behaved (usually), he had just sat on the bench in the lobby reading _Icha Icha_ while Sato-san had led the dogs behind the curtain and taken their measurements.

A long table lined with benches and cluttered with scraps of fabric and spools of thread filled the center of the workshop. It was bright inside and there was a solid wall of bare mannequins waiting to be dressed. A filing cabinet was shoved in the corner of the workshop and all of the drawers were opened; hundreds of papers were pulled out and lying scattered on the floor.

“Sorry for the mess,” she said. “I’ve been going through all of Grandma’s papers to get things organized. I’ve got to finish her orders and collect her payments. Come this way. We’ll find the patterns. What were you saying?”

“Huh? Oh - I was just … I was gonna ask where Sato-san was. I didn’t know she had any family, so it really surprised me that you were working here.”

The girl hesitated, pausing in her walk towards the large table in the center of the room. Kakashi almost ran into her but stepped aside just in time. She shook her head and scurried over to the other side of the table, heading towards the filing cabinet. “I’m sure your patterns are in here. It’ll just take me a moment.”

Kakashi sat on one of the low wooden benches and watched the girl balance the bag of shredded fabric in one arm and frantically shuffle through the see-through patterns in the cabinet.

“Aha! Here they are.” She pulled out a large paper folder and slapped it on the table beside Kakashi. Across the front in scribbled handwriting read, _Hatake, Kakashi - 8 Patterns - Jackets, Various Sizes_. “I can make as many jackets as you want with these!” she beamed, setting the bag down on the table. “Look here, see these notes? She wrote down what fabric she used, what thread, what kind of stitch, and she even wrote down the name of the dogs the jackets were for. She always paid attention to stuff like that,” she mused fondly, running her fingers along the folder. “So - you wanted to order new ones? I’m sure we have this fabric still in stock. And it looks like there’s a pattern on it.”

“Yeah - it’s _Henohenomoheji_.”

“… what?”

“Uh, it’s …” Kakashi felt another embarrassed blush rise on his masked face and he cleared his throat. “It’s, you know, the little face kids draw on their scarecrows.”

“Huh — oh! _Kakashi_! I get it! Hm. I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone with a sense of humor. Actually, considering you’ve had jackets custom-made for your dogs with a scarecrow face on it, I guess you are kind of funny.” The girl took back the folder and went to studying the patterns, looking through the bolts of fabric to find the exact type. “You can wait here or you can come back later. It’ll take me a while. Well …” She studied the measurements for Bull and paled. “This one might take me all night. Maybe you should come back tomorrow afternoon. I can tell you then when they’ll be ready.”

“Sure. Do you want to keep my wallet hostage so you can be sure I don’t cheat you?”

“Very funny. You can pay me before I hand over the jackets when they’re finished, though. I’ll tally up the bill now if you want.”

“That would be helpful, thank you.”

She grabbed a pencil and quickly wrote down a handful of figures. She shoved the paper at Kakashi and pointed at the bottom string of numbers, “That’s your bill.”

Kakashi’s only visible eye widened in bewilderment at the sight but he fought to retain his cool exterior and shrugged. “I … see the price of labor has gone up.”

“Well, it _is_ only me here. If I start these tonight it’s already overtime! Unless you can wait a few days, then I can knock a few zeros off. Otherwise, I’m charging you for priority. I’m pretty backlogged, you know.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Kakashi studied the pieces of fabric pinned to other patterns and the wicker basket on the floor beside the sewing machine, overflowing with garments. “That price is fine. As much as they hated wearing them, I feel like they’re a little ashamed to be seen without them. It’s a modesty thing.”

“Uh-huh. Right. Anyway, I’ve got to close up soon or else more people are gonna think they can come in this late. I’ll walk you out.” The girl clutched the folder into the crook of her arm and escorted Kakashi out of the workroom, through the curtain, and to the front door. “Stop by tomorrow and we’ll see where we’re at.” She waved at him to stop when he moved to grab his wallet out of his pocket. “You can pay tomorrow. Maybe by then I’ll have softened up a little and reduced the price. Do you mind if I keep these here tonight? I can use them as reference. My grandma always did things a little differently than me. I want to make sure I get them right.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. You did those?” He motioned towards the clothed mannequins sitting in the front of the shop.

“Yeah! They were some of the first things I made when I took over this shop. I was getting used to her sewing machine, but I think they turned out alright.”

Kakashi guessed that from the aversion of the question, he knew the answer about where Sato-san was. He took a deep breath, remembering the old woman who’d done so much to help him in the past. Although the village had certified tailors and seamstresses to make the chunin and jonin uniforms, as well as masks, Kakashi had always brought in his clothes to be mended by the woman. He’d also kept all the shirts she’d made for him when he was young; even though he had far outgrown them, they were still in good condition. For the most part. Kunai strikes and bomb shrapnel were not kind to clothes, no matter how well they were made. He looked at the girl, feeling a strange sort of sadness in the middle of his chest, and he muttered, “I’m sorry for your loss. Sato-san was a really wonderful woman. I’m glad you’ve taken over, though, and kept her shop open.”

The girl stared at him in silence for a while before leaning forward with her eyebrows pulled together tightly and her mouth stretched downward. “ _Huh_ _?_ ”

“Sato-san,” Kakashi said, unintentionally shuffling backwards under the gaze of the girl. “I’m s-sorry for your loss. She really was a nice woman.”

To his surprise, the girl let out a sudden laugh and stood up, looking just as confused as before. “My grandma isn’t dead! Is that — is that what you’ve been thinking this whole time?”

“Uhm … yes?”

“No! No, she isn’t dead. Oh my gosh. I should’ve said something. Grandma retired last year and has been traveling around to different villages. She trained me to be a seamstress like her and left me in charge of the shop before she left. She had a few orders left but I said I would take care of them, but they were a lot more than I thought. I’ve been trying to get through them all, but I don’t work as fast as her. And, like I said, she was too generous for her own good so now _I’ve_ got to collect all that money before we lose the shop. But that’s none of your concern, aha ha ha! I didn’t mean to frighten you, either, by letting you think she was dead. I think she’ll be stopping by for a bit sometime in the summer, if you want to come by again to see her.”

Kakashi wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or relieved. “That’d be nice,” he forced himself to say. He couldn’t believe he just paid his condolences for a woman who wasn’t dead. “I … should go. It’s getting late and you need to close up. I’ll stop by tomorrow. Goodbye.” He turned and hurried out of the shop, leaving the poor girl behind. He marched down the now-dark street back towards his apartment.

_I’m so stupid_ , he thought as he passed by the shops, long since closed for the evening. _I can’t believe I just assumed her grandma was dead._ He was absolutely convinced that if it weren’t for the jackets he was going to pick up tomorrow, he would never show his face at the shop again. Shoving the key into his lock, he pushed open his door and dragged himself into the apartment. _It doesn’t matter tonight_ , he tried to tell himself as he collapsed on the couch, kicking off his shoes. _I have to see her tomorrow, so I’ll just pretend it didn’t happen. After that, though, I’m never going back._

Soon, he was asleep, the embarrassing moment and the hefty fee temporarily forgotten.

 


	3. Iacta Alea Est (Prompt: Brotherhood)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi always thought that the blood of the covenant was thicker than the water of the womb. It seems Itachi didn't care either way; he had no sense of loyalty to Kakashi, or to Sasuke. So much for brotherhood.

Kakashi is horrified when he hears the news. The words ring in his ears like shrill bells, sending a sharp pain through his skull to back of his eyes - _his_ eye - the Sharingan.

“The entire Uchiha clan has been massacred. The only survivor is Fugaku’s son —”

Kakashi’s breath catches in his throat and his chest tightens as he waits in fearful anticipation.

“— the littlest one, Sasuke.”

His mind reels. Sasuke? But where’s Itachi? Fugaku’s first born - one of the most impressive shinobi to come out of the Leaf Village? Where is he? Kakashi doesn’t know if he asks it, or someone else does, or if the other shinobi have read his mind, but next he hears,

“Itachi, Fugaku’s oldest, is missing.”

Missing? What does that mean? They haven’t found his body among the rest of the corpses? _Is_ there a body to find? Itachi’s young but cold face surfaces in his mind. Where is the Uchiha? Has he escaped? If he’s alive, why hasn’t he alerted anyone for help? Has he gone after the murderer in hopes of getting justice?

Dismissed from the meeting, Kakashi finds himself rushing out of the Hokage building and to the farthest part of the village. His lungs burn inside his chest and his throat feels raw. It isn’t until a few moments later that he realizes he is screaming. Only one word clouds his mind and tumbles from his lips in rapid, dizzying succession.

“Itachi!”

He hopes - prays - the ninja is safe, is away on a mission, is somewhere else other than here. He’s already lost one Uchiha, and he’s had the reminder of it sitting (un)comfortably in his left eye socket that still throbs and aches.

The thought of one of his subordinates returning from a mission to find their entire family slaughtered makes him sick. An entire clan as great and powerful as the Uchiha, gone in a single evening. Who could do such a thing? Who is strong enough, smart enough, fast enough to do all of that?

Secretly, he knows. Secretly, he pretends not to know. He wants to believe that the eldest of Fugaku’s children hasn’t committed the appalling crime. That he hasn’t fled from the village to become a rogue nin. But his subconscious knows better and soon he finds himself screaming into the early morning sky, a single drawn out cry.

“Traitor!”

* * *

In the years that pass, Kakashi tries his best to ignore the irony of his relationships with the Uchiha. One who had been his enemy up until his death; the other who’d been his friend up until his defection. It seems like Kakashi can’t get it right. But hindsight is 20/20 and Obito was his friend and Itachi was not.

When Kakashi sees Sasuke, the guilt from years before rise up in the back of his throat and taste like bile. A moment later he finds himself hidden behind a tree, vomiting into the bushes, sick at the sight of the young - the orphaned - the only surviving - Uchiha.

_I could’ve stopped it. I could’ve prevented it. I could’ve …_

When he finds out Sasuke will be his student, he is pretty sure the universe is just screwing around with him now. He’ll have to look at Sasuke every day and be reminded of what Itachi has done - and that Kakashi hadn’t done anything to stop him.

He debates on whether or not to tell him. “I knew your brother,” sounds too simple and doesn’t really mean much. Many people knew Itachi, but how many people _knew_ him? Kakashi feels like he doesn’t know anything about the man. What else can he say? “I worked with your brother. He was in my squad. We were friends. _I was friends with the man who slaughtered your family and I did nothing to help you._ ”

As months pass, Kakashi realizes that, right now, he cannot focus on what he couldn’t or didn’t do - there will be time enough for that later. In this moment, he has to focus on what he can and will do. It is not the first time he has let guilt dictate his actions, and it won’t be the last. So he decides.

He has to train Sasuke. When the youngest Uchiha expresses his hate and his eyes turn cold and he spits words about revenge like venom from the snake he’ll learn to summon, Kakashi decides - he has to train Sasuke. Even if it means he forsakes the other two genin - even if it means he’s giving training and a weapon to a child whose sole purpose is to murder his brother. He has to do it. He’ll pepper his lessons with cautionary tales of revenge and hatred, of forgiveness and healing, of comrades and friends - but in between his silent pleas for Sasuke to give up his self-destructive goal, he’ll teach him deadly jutsu. Friend Killer Kakashi teaches the Orphan Sasuke the Chidori so he can get revenge on the Traitor Itachi. Because, despite his own warnings, there is still anger and betrayal deep in Kakashi’s gut and he too wants revenge - he just knows it’s not his place to seek it. That right belongs to Sasuke and Kakashi can’t take it away. Even if Itachi was his friend, he was Sasuke’s brother first. He betrayed Sasuke first.

So the next time Kakashi sees Itachi, dressed in red and black robes, his heart sinks but his eyes harden. He can’t defeat him - not because he’s too weak (though Itachi has grown stronger over the years) - but because this victory does not belong to him. He fights, but he loses, and he’s mixed with emotions. Has he put Sasuke’s desires above the village’s needs?

And when he hears Sasuke’s left the village in search of power, in search of Itachi, in search of Orochimaru, he still feels mixed with emotions but among the guilt and resignation, he feels hope. Hope that maybe Sasuke can do what he couldn’t. Hope that maybe Itachi will be the last Uchiha he loses.

 


	4. Puppy Love (Prompt: "I hate to do this, but please call me Hokage-sama this time")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi is suffering from puppy love - in every sense of the word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% happy with this, but I think it's the best it's going to get. Only 2 more prompts for Kakashi Week to go!

Kakashi could barely contain the gasp of surprise when his eyes landed on the tiny puppy walking through the crowds towards one of the food stands. Iruka’s words fell on deaf ears as Kakashi gawked at the tiny animal, its paws padding along the dirt road, its little ears flopping around as it bounded eagerly to keep at the heels of its owner. Not even Naruto’s extremely loud voice in his ear was able to draw his attention away. As soon as the pup was swallowed up in the legs of the crowd, Kakashi turned to Iruka, his eyes wide and serious.

“I need you to do something for me.”

“What? I - _Kakashi!_ I’m in the middle of going over some really important things that you need to —”

“Do you see where we are?” Kakashi cut in, motioning towards the open street lined with booths. “You showed up in my office to talk to me, and I left my office and you _followed_. And you brought Naruto with you. If I’m not in my office, then I don’t have to listen to anything work-related.”

“That’s not how that works!” Iruka shouted, clutching his stack of papers in his hands. “You’re Hokage now, and as that, you must —”

“Keep your voice down - I don’t want people to …” Kakashi stopped, whipping around to see if he could see the dog. “Wait, that’s a great idea! Thanks, Iruka.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kakashi-sensei,” Naruto spoke up, folding his arms across his chest and scrunching up his face, “what are you looking at? Oh! Did you see a cute girl? Ha, even as the Hokage you’re just as perverted as ever —”

“Follow me,” Kakashi said, hurrying off. “This’ll only work with you two. I don’t look the part.”

“What do you mean?” Iruka asked, gathering up the rest of his papers and rushing after the other man. “Look _what_ part?”

Instead of answering, Kakashi slipped into the crowd of festival-goers. Iruka growled in annoyance, turned to Naruto and barked, “Follow him! I have to get through these papers before this weekend!”

The two rushed after Kakashi, trying their best to catch up to the man who seemed to have disappeared among the sea of bodies. Naruto hesitated in front of a takoyaki stand but Iruka grabbed his collar and shoved him forward. ”Keep going! He’s given me the slip one too many times; but not this time! He can’t avoid his responsibilities forever.”

“There he is!” Naruto called, pointing above the crowds at the silver head of hair moving swiftly through two groups of people heading in opposite directions. “He’s near the barbecue pork stand - oh, that sounds really good… Iruka-sensei, can’t we stop for _something_ to eat?”

“If you can catch Kakashi, then I’ll buy you Ichiraku —”

Naruto sprinted down the road, leaving Iruka behind in a cloud of dust. When he caught up to the Copy Ninja, Naruto reached out and grabbed his arm. “Sensei! What are you doing? I mean, I understand not wanting to do paperwork, but I think you’re annoying Iruka-sensei — and he’s scarier than Grandma Tsunade when he’s angry.”

“Shh,” Kakashi said, throwing up his index finger.

“Wha —”

“I said shh!”

Naruto huffed and turned to see where Kakashi’s gaze had landed. When he saw a pair of long legs dressed in sensible heels and framed by the short hem of a summer dress, Naruto let out a devious snicker and nudged Kakashi in the side.

“I knew it! You’re still an old perv, sensei! Don’t worry, I’m sure even Iruka wouldn’t complain about _her_. Do you know her? She doesn’t look like a ninja —”

Iruka grabbed Kakashi’s shoulder tightly and pulled him around, looking at him right in the eyes with a deadly glare. “You - can’t - run - forever - _Kakashi_ -!”

“I have a favor I need to ask of you,” the silver-haired man cut in, obviously not paying attention to what the younger ninja was saying.

“Wh-What? A favor?”

“Yes, I …” Kakashi paused, looking up towards the sky. Naruto looked up too but saw nothing. “I hate to do this, but …”

“No you don’t,” muttered Iruka, shoving his papers under his arm. “What is it?”

“Please call me Hokage-sama this time.”

“ … _what_?”

Kakashi’s face burned hot with shame as he turned back towards the crowd and spotted the puppy sitting at the feet of its owner, who was resting at an outdoor table of a cafe. “I’m going to walk by that table and I’d like f-for you … t-to please call me … Hokage-sama. Just this once!”

“What are you up to?” Iruka frowned, scanning the crowds. His eyes fell on the young woman sitting at the table, her attention pulled into the pages of a book. He sighed irritably and planted his feet firmly in the ground. “Absolutely not. I am not going to be part of some - some - some _scheme_ for you to flirt with a civilian! If you want to talk to her, then go do it! But don’t pull us into it!”

“What are you talking about?” Kakashi gave Iruka a puzzled look. “Just - nevermind. Naruto!”

“Yes, sensei?”

“You do it. When I walk by the table, call me Hokage-sama.”

“Uh … sure thing.”

Kakashi took a deep breath to steady himself, straightened out the front of his flak jacket and started off at a moderate pace towards the cafe, Naruto by his side.

“Okay,” Kakashi hissed out of the corner of his mouth, “you can start talking now.”

Naruto threw his hands to the back of his neck and grinned widely. “Jeez, Kakashi-sensei you sure seem nervous. This girl’s got you acting all funny! I didn’t think she was _that_ cute, but —”

“Hokage-sama, just call me Hokage-sama,” Kakashi muttered frantically as they got closer to the table.

“Huh? Oh, right. So, _Hokage-sama_ , thanks for running off, actually - Iruka was going to try to get _me_ to do paperwork too and -”

“Naruto, call me Hokage-sama now —”

“— and I really didn’t want to. Also, I think you’ve gotten slower in your old age! I was able to catch up to you easily! Good thing too, because I’m hungry - and broke - but Iruka-sensei said he’d buy me —”

“Naruto, now —”

“Huh? Now what?”

“Naruto!” Kakashi stopped and turned, his eyes narrowed threateningly at the younger ninja. “You’re supposed to call me Hokage-sama when we’re passing by the table! So she can hear you say it!”

“I thought I did that —”

Kakashi turned Naruto and pointed at the spot they’d been when Naruto had called him ‘Hokage’. “Don’t do it when we’re 10 feet away! Do it right in front of her! Okay? Now we have to go back and do it again.”

“Jeez, sensei. You must really like this girl! You’re putting a lot of effort into this.”

“Just - you know what? I’m going to go stand in front of the table and you can just come up to me and address me as Hokage-sama.”

“Alright.”

Kakashi strode over to the table, turning so his back was to the woman, and crossed his arms with a subtle nod to the blonde ninja. Naruto quickly hurried over, grinning widely.

“Hey! Hokage-sama! What’s up?”

Kakashi sensed the woman behind him stiffen and turn her head slightly towards him. Under her breath she muttered, “Hokage …?”

“Naruto,” he replied calmly, giving a more definite nod to the boy. “How are your missions going?”

“Huh? Mi - oh! Fine, _Hokage-sama_! Just fine! You sure assign a lot of them, though, since you’re the _Hokage_!”

_Subtle_ , Kakashi sighed. If Naruto threw around the title too much then it’d seem fake. Kakashi gave a gentle but firm pat to Naruto’s shoulder.

“That’s good to hear! You know, I’m actually kind of busy right now - but if you want to talk more, feel free to stop by my office anytime, alright?”

“Hu —?” Before Naruto could finish questioning why Kakashi was stopping him, he was shoved away in the direction of a fuming Iruka. Kakashi threw a glance at the girl who was sitting up straight now, her eyes focused on him. When she noticed him looking at her, she fumbled with her book and dropped it in her lap, giving a nervous giggle.

“H-H-Hi!” she stuttered, feeling her cheeks burn as Kakashi turned to face her. She gave a slight bow where she sat, her hands trembling against the cover of her book. “Did I … I mean, not to pry but … did I hear that right? Are you really … the Hokage?”

“Hm? Yes - I’m the Rokudaime Hokage.”

The woman let out another halting laugh and stood up suddenly, giving a deeper bow. “Wow! I - I’ve heard so much about the Hokage - most of my clients are ninja! But I never thought I’d meet him, er, you … This is such an honor —”

“Who’s this?”

She looked up to see Kakashi knelt in front of her, eagerly patting the head of the small puppy at her feet. Taking this as an opportunity to get to know him better, the woman crouched beside him and smiled warmly. “This is Kibble, isn’t he just the cutest? I adopted him about a month ago. Do you have dogs?”

“Ah, yes, a few.”

“That’s wonderful! Maybe,” she pushed her hair out of her face and casually pets the puppy’s back, hoping maybe hers and Kakashi’s hands would brush against one another, “maybe … they can have a play date?”

“Hm,” was all he said. He continued to scratch behind the small dog’s floppy ears, raking his short nails over its head and under its chin, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled genuinely from behind his mask. The puppy seemed to be just as in love and leapt up, planting its much too large front paws on Kakashi’s thigh, and buried its head into his arm, trying to fling itself fully into Kakashi’s chest.

“Wow! He really likes you,” the girl sighed, catching cautionary glimpses of a rather distracted Kakashi. “Now I _really_ think our dogs ought to have a play date! We could - uhm, you know - m-meet here at the cafe, too. You with your dogs … me with mine … together … j-just a regular old doggy play date.”

Kakashi was not listening. At all. He was completely enraptured with the tiny warm body nestling against his inner thigh, wiggling excitedly between his legs and playfully leaping on his sandal, nibbling on Kakashi’s exposed toes.

“So … do you have people who walk your dogs for you? Since I’m sure you’re so busy as Hokage!” She gave another laugh, reaching out to pet her own dog only to be met with the pup slithering away to hide behind Kakashi. “Oh, uh - well … Guess he likes you … a lot …”

Kakashi was now cradling the puppy in his arms and it was giving him eager kisses all across his mask, and even leaving a sloppy trail of affection over his eye, making the hair of his eyebrow stick flat against his forehead. The dog wiggled upwards and planted its paws on Kakashi’s shoulders, nipping at his ear and tugging at the dark cloth of his hitai-ate.

“What are you dogs’ names?” the woman asked, trying to hide the exasperated sigh crawling up her throat.

Now, somehow, the puppy was lying across Kakashi’s head, its back paws kicking against Kakashi’s forehead as it scrambled for purchase in his wild silver locks. Kakashi let out a soft laugh and let the puppy roll off of his head and into his awaiting arms.

For the next five minutes, the woman tried with increasing frustration to get the attention of the Hokage, but to no avail. His total attention was on the loving dog in his arms, nuzzled up under his chin, giving wet kisses to his clothed neck. The young woman had never felt such jealousy towards a dog before.

Iruka and Naruto were standing a ways off, staring in bewilderment.

“Did he …” Naruto began, watching as Kakashi brushed off the woman’s comments and kept snuggling up with the animal. “Did he use us … to pet a dog?”

Iruka felt his eye twitch and he gripped the papers in his hands tight enough to crumple them. “Unbelievable … We’ll never get him back in the office.”

“I’ll go get him,” offered Naruto as he slipped from Iruka’s side and headed for the crouching jonin and the irate woman. “Hey, uh, Hokage-sama?”

The woman’s eyes snapped to Naruto and he reeled back, feeling the fury behind her glare. _Oh, Kakashi-sensei, if this woman ever sees you again …_

“Hm? Oh, Naruto. What are you still doing here?” Kakashi asked, seemingly pulled out of a daydream.

_Ugh, talk about puppy love_ , Naruto thought, frowning. “You’re really needed back at the office! You are the Hokage, after all.”

“Right …” Kakashi sighed heavily, turned around to give the puppy another squeeze and a gentle pat between its ears. “See you around,” he said as he stood and the woman scooped up the dog in her arm, glaring daggers at the oblivious ninja. Grabbing her book, she stormed off in the opposite direction, scaring a crowd of people into parting like the Red Sea when she headed towards them.

“I don’t think she wants to see _you_ again,” Naruto said off-handedly, watching as the woman kicked up a dust storm behind her.

“Huh? I was talking to the dog. Why? Did she say something about meeting up?”

Iruka joined them and shoved the papers in Kakashi’s slobber-covered face. “ _Here_! You need to go over these papers as soon as possible. You still have a ton of missions to assign, reports to read, and there’s a treaty you’re supposed to go over before the end of this week —”

Kakashi rolled his eyes back up to the sky, tuning out the irritating list of things he had to do once he got back to the office. He knew Naruto and Iruka meant well, but they both could be so _annoying_. He hardly noticed that their small group was moving again, back towards the Hokage Building, back to stacks of unfinished paperwork, back to not finding time to read _Icha Icha_ , back to being locked up in a stuffy room all day. He was already dreading it - but more than that, he was already dreaming of the next time he’d get to see Kibble.

 


End file.
